My Eternal Romance

I always imagined that we would return and do it again.

Not the entire thing again, of course- we wouldn't re-do the ceremony. No, I just imagined that we would all reconvene, in five or ten years, on the grass expanse over-looking Lake Lugano and throw another party.

And why not? The summer of 2012 had been the most magical time of my life. Three months spent wandering around Europe, exploring big cities and old towns while occasionally mixing in the wedding of a friend, only to, eventually, wind our way down to the foot of the Swiss Alps- where the mountains turn Italian- in order to gather with loved ones and throw a wedding of our own.

As should be evidenced by my Latin-named children, a long flirtatious relationship with the Catholic Church and a career spent in the pizza business, getting married in a place of Italian culture was a dream come true. The whole experience turned out so fantasically romantic that I never wanted it to end.

As a result, beginning with the moment that we set foot back on American soil, I struggled. Though very happily married, everyday life, here in Oakland, was just not romantic enough. I knew, of course- and as my Protestant culture constantly reminded me- that everyday life was not supposed to be eternally romantic. Yet, deep down, I sensed that I now knew otherwise; I had tasted something sweet in Lugano.

It felt as if the universe had played a cruel trick.

Over time, Lugano began to take on the character of a dream from which I've just awoken; one that I can't bear to part with so I linger on in bed, half awake, knowing that the moment in which I rise will be the instant in which it all begins to slowly fade away into nothingness. In an attempt to stave this off, I began to, more and more, look at the idea of a ten-year reunion as the way to keep a grip on the dream.

Fate, alas, would not have it be so. With two little children, our time, as well as our financial state, had become quite restricted. Likewise, it had become restricted for most of the friends and family who attended the wedding; many of whom now have little children of their own; the participation of these folks being, obviously, neccessary for a reunion.

Ten years ago, however, none of this seemed as if it would ever matter. I expected, after all, to be financially successful by now and, with such success, I would be able to simply transcend the universal laws of time and money and transport all of my friends and family to the top of Monte Bre. Such success, of course, never arrived and the incontrovertible design of the universe carried on, untranscended.

Consequently, as the date of our tenth anniversary approached, I came to envision a somewhat curtailed version of a reunion. Our Swiss friends, who also married that summer, were apparently thinking along much the same lines as they made us a most gracious offer. Even with such generosity, unfortunately, Lugano, and the romantic dream that it embodied, still remained out of reach.

Or was it out of reach? Because, as I looked back, I came to the conclusion that the first event must have originally appeared out of reach, as well. Which caused me to wonder; was Lugano slightly beyond my grasp? Or had the length of my reach shortened?

Surely, I told myself, if I had desired it strongly enough, I could have made some form of a reunion occur. Though I knew better- though I knew that you cannot buy dreams or purchase passion- I began to feel that if only I had been more successful, Lugano would never have been so out of reach.

Then I turned to my side- such beauty, such wisdom, such grace- and it struck me; I was successful. Though the financial success which had once seemed so within my reach had never materialized, when it came to the things that mattered most, I'd done quite well. In fact, for myself, I couldn't have done any better.

Which was, at the end of the day, the purpose of it all. The purpose of the Lugano romance was to bring two souls together in order to form one union; the purpose which, when taken to its meaningful conclusion, reveals itself through our two wonderful little children; who, God-willing, will create little ones of their own; and on, and on, and on, for eternity.

Eternal romance.

The thing for which I had been grasping was always firmly within my grip. Lugano, and all that it embodied, no longer resided in the outside world of my experience, but within me; within us.

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My Eternal Romance

I always imagined that we would return and do it again.

Not the entire thing again, of course- we wouldn't re-do the ceremony. No, I just imagined that we would all reconvene, in five or ten years, on the grass expanse over-looking Lake Lugano and throw another party.

And why not? The summer of 2012 had been the most magical time of my life. Three months spent wandering around Europe, exploring big cities and old towns while occasionally mixing in the wedding of a friend, only to, eventually, wind our way down to the foot of the Swiss Alps- where the mountains turn Italian- in order to gather with loved ones and throw a wedding of our own.

As should be evidenced by my Latin-named children, a long flirtatious relationship with the Catholic Church and a career spent in the pizza business, getting married in a place of Italian culture was a dream come true. The whole experience turned out so fantasically romantic that I never wanted it to end.

As a result, beginning with the moment that we set foot back on American soil, I struggled. Though very happily married, everyday life, here in Oakland, was just not romantic enough. I knew, of course- and as my Protestant culture constantly reminded me- that everyday life was not supposed to be eternally romantic. Yet, deep down, I sensed that I now knew otherwise; I had tasted something sweet in Lugano.

It felt as if the universe had played a cruel trick.

Over time, Lugano began to take on the character of a dream from which I've just awoken; one that I can't bear to part with so I linger on in bed, half awake, knowing that the moment in which I rise will be the instant in which it all begins to slowly fade away into nothingness. In an attempt to stave this off, I began to, more and more, look at the idea of a ten-year reunion as the way to keep a grip on the dream.

Fate, alas, would not have it be so. With two little children, our time, as well as our financial state, had become quite restricted. Likewise, it had become restricted for most of the friends and family who attended the wedding; many of whom now have little children of their own; the participation of these folks being, obviously, neccessary for a reunion.

Ten years ago, however, none of this seemed as if it would ever matter. I expected, after all, to be financially successful by now and, with such success, I would be able to simply transcend the universal laws of time and money and transport all of my friends and family to the top of Monte Bre. Such success, of course, never arrived and the incontrovertible design of the universe carried on, untranscended.

Consequently, as the date of our tenth anniversary approached, I came to envision a somewhat curtailed version of a reunion. Our Swiss friends, who also married that summer, were apparently thinking along much the same lines as they made us a most gracious offer. Even with such generosity, unfortunately, Lugano, and the romantic dream that it embodied, still remained out of reach.

Or was it out of reach? Because, as I looked back, I came to the conclusion that the first event must have originally appeared out of reach, as well. Which caused me to wonder; was Lugano slightly beyond my grasp? Or had the length of my reach shortened?

Surely, I told myself, if I had desired it strongly enough, I could have made some form of a reunion occur. Though I knew better- though I knew that you cannot buy dreams or purchase passion- I began to feel that if only I had been more successful, Lugano would never have been so out of reach.

Then I turned to my side- such beauty, such wisdom, such grace- and it struck me; I was successful. Though the financial success which had once seemed so within my reach had never materialized, when it came to the things that mattered most, I'd done quite well. In fact, for myself, I couldn't have done any better.

Which was, at the end of the day, the purpose of it all. The purpose of the Lugano romance was to bring two souls together in order to form one union; the purpose which, when taken to its meaningful conclusion, reveals itself through our two wonderful little children; who, God-willing, will create little ones of their own; and on, and on, and on, for eternity.

Eternal romance.

The thing for which I had been grasping was always firmly within my grip. Lugano, and all that it embodied, no longer resided in the outside world of my experience, but within me; within us.

Jakit Friends

Jakit Philosophies

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My Favorite Cinema

Francois Truffuat: The 400 BlowsMy favorite film. This goes straight to my heart and stays there. I absolutely love this movie.
If I could ever make a film as simple and poetic as this, I would consider my efforts done and spend the rest of my days drinking wine and playing petanque.

Blake Edwards: Breakfast at Tiffany'sYeah, I know... but I'm a sucker for a good love story, cuz that's what it's all about, after all. And this is the best love story I know (with another Audrey movie Roman Holiday, coming in a close second).

Vittorio de Sica: The Bicycle ThiefThe story of mankind's eternal struggle told through the tale of a man's bicycle being stolen.
This was one of the first Italian Neo-Realist films and the only professional actor was the fella who played the character of The Thief.

Carl Dreyer: The Passion of Joan of ArcPauline Kael, one of the most famous and respected film critics, hailed the performance of Maria Falconetti's in this film as the greatest to ever appear on the silver screen.
Not to be a film snob, or nothing, but this is the movie that serparates the boys from the men.
It's hard to sit through. However, with this flick, you'll earn your chops.

Charlie Chaplin: City LightsThe perfect blending of humor and pathos. Chaplin's greatest film with the single most beautiful ending in the history of cinema.

Satyajit Ray: Pather PanchaliThis film is black and white with subtitles and the entire thing takes place in a little Indian village. It moves very, very slowly and the first time I saw it I couldn't wait for it to end. Yet, afterwards, I was unable to shake the movie from my mind. For weeks it sat around in my head, poking at me.
It's films like this that make me feel like I have no idea what I'm doing as a filmmaker. It's difficult to grasp the subtle, yet extremely powerful methods at work here.

Sergio Leone: Once Upon a Time in the WestThe western to end all westerns. The baddest bad guys, the most mysterious strangers, and the epic scope and theme of the wild west.
Be dedicated when you watch this, for it moves slowly. But most definitely watch it.

Kevin Costner: Dances with WolvesA great example of how good Hollywood can be.
This film is not just a great film about America, or the West, or a new attitude towards Native Americans. On a much deeper level, it's about man's attempt to truly be free.
Throughout the film, the main character slowly frees himself from the bonds of his Western/American society. But he doesn't just replace one set of rules with another, moving from being a White man to that of an Indian. Instead he frees himself altogether, and, along with his woman, enters the wild.
The final scene of him on his horse is one of the truly liberating scenes in cinema.

Richard Linklater: Before SunriseMy favorite current director and the best depiction of our generation, as well as a keen observation on the differences between Americans and Europeans.

Federico Fellini: La StradaI don't really remember why I liked this film, but I know that as soon as it was done I turned to Erika and said "That was a great movie".
That's significant to me because people usually complain that I never have anything good to say about movies... that I'm jaded. That idea was actually bugging me around the time I saw this.
So, afterwards, when I realized that I totally dug this flick, it became clear to me that I'm not jaded after all... it's just that most movies suck.

Stephen Daldry: The HoursI don't think I have ever been as emotionally affected by a film as I was by this one. When it was finally over, I actually had trouble breathing, and couldn't talk to anyone for several minutes.
Since then, it has deeply impacted by life and my worldview.
I don't expect it will effect everyone nearly the same, but for me, it hit just the right button at just the right time.

William Wyler: Roman HolidayThis is the other great Audrey Hepburn love-story. I defy anyone to see this movie and not be sad as heck at the end. If you aren't, you're a cold, heartless Republican.

Tom Cohen: Family BusinessHands down, this is the best documentary I've ever seen.
It's the story of some guy and his family in middle America somewhere trying to make a living by running their Shakey's pizza restuarant.
It is so intimate that years later you'll swear you experienced these events yourself.
In the end, it's as good a portrait of the American Dream as you will ever see and it's a magnificient testament to the ability of art to say so much with so very little.
Icarus Films

On our way from Greg's wedding in Goteburg, Sweden to our wedding in Lugano, Swirtzerland, Erika and I spent a few days in Berlin. It was quite a moving experience for me since it was my first time visiting the city where my father grew up. What I found was an inspiring and dynamic city that had suffered through so much but always looked ahead. It was unlike any other place I'd ever been.